There’s a bunch of mad old guys in the neighbourhood who come out and feed the pigeons, which then crap all over benches, bicycles and toddlers. One of the locals has discovered how to make them stop. He puts a handful of salt in his pocket, lies in wait till he sees them emptying their bags of mouldy bread, and then goes and sprinkles salt over their meal. “What’s that you’re feeding them?” they ask with a conspiratorial smile. “Rat poison,” he says.
(This is a variant on the gag allegedly perpetrated by the old woman round the corner who is kept awake at night by a drunks and thieves on the street below. Her trick is to empty buckets of water over the throng whilst shouting, “BLEEEAACCCHHH!!!”)
- El mullet
Someone told me the other night that Barcelona is the world capital of mullet. The Danish allegedly call it Bundesliga-hÃ¥r, but
A friend out walking in the Aragonese pre-Pyrenees the other day came across an old farmhouse in the middle of nowhere
- Fried pigeon egg for breakfast
This is a rather convenient arrangement – I ‘ate facking pigeons.
- Pigeon poo
Two old people were arguing this afternoon under the memorial to Joan Amades on Calle Carmen in the Raval about whether
- Pigeon poo, II
Of course it is the fault of those damn Muslims: The Marchenero is one of the oldest pouter breeds, and it is